Mistaken Identity
by TantalumCobolt
Summary: Five times the Avengers think Will is Clint... and one time they realise they're twins.


**AN: A companion fic to 'And It All Went Downhill From There' explaining how WIll met the Avengers**

 **1\. Steve Rogers**

The first time it happens, Will is waiting in line at a coffee shop in Brooklyn. Like any secret agent with somewhat decent self-preservation, he looks over when the bell above the door jingles. The guy who comes in is tall, blonde and pure muscle, and even though he'd been in Slovakia at the time of the alien invasion, Will immediately recognises him as Captain America (even without the costume).

The super soldier takes his place in line, taking a moment to scan the menu before smiling at Will.

"Hey Barton," he says with a nod. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Will just blinks at him for a few seconds before it registers that he's being addressed by Captain freakin' America. His brain freezes.

What the hell are you supposed to say to the not-dead super soldier who'd been one of your childhood heroes and has mistaken you for your identical twin brother?

"Hey," Will says (and it's definitely not a mutter at all, thank you very much).

Captain America steps forward and Will realises that during his moment of confusion/shock/fangirling the people in front have ordered their coffees and it's now his turn.

"What are you having?" the Captain asks.

Will forces his brain and mouth to work together. "Uh, cappuccino."

And then he watches in surprise as Captain freakin' America (repeat for emphasis) buys him coffee. Will adds this (previously uneventful) coffee run to his mental list of events that he is unlikely to forget anytime soon because, really, how many people can say that Captain America has bought them coffee?

(And so what if it's only because the Captain thinks he's Clint).

"You never said what it is you're doing in Brooklyn," Cap says while they wait for the coffees.

Will shrugs, trying vainly to shut up the annoying voice in his head that tells him to play it cool. "Just needed to get out for a while."

As far as shady answers go, that one is pretty high on Will's list of 'suspicious things to say that are likely to provoke more questions that will inevitable lead to more suspicious answers' (it's a long name, but it's currently under revision to find a catchy acronym to save mental breath). Captain America doesn't question it though, just nods thoughtfully like it makes perfect sense to need to get out for a while (in Brooklyn of all places).

"You coming to Tony's party later?" Cap asks. "He said it will only be a small gathering, but it's Tony so that could mean anything."

"I guess so." Will really has no fucking clue whether Clint is going to the party or not so it's back to the vague, shady answers.

Their coffees arrive then though (thank god for quick service) so Will is saved from further awkward attempts at conversation with one of his childhood heroes. He follows the Captain out of the coffee shop then makes some (shady) excuse about meeting up with Natasha (always foolproof since she and Clint are practically inseparable).

Captain America just smiles and gives him a jaunty wave as he turns the other way at the corner. Will stands a moment longer, just watching him go, and thinking about how weird it is that it isn't weird that Captain America just mistook him for his twin and bought him coffee.

Then he shrugs one shoulder, takes a sip of his cappuccino, and crosses the street. After all, stranger things have happened.

 **2\. Tony Stark**

Will is sitting in a bar the next time one of the Avengers mistakes him for his twin.

(And doesn't that sound like the beginning of a bad joke?)

He's staring into the depths of his fourth glass of beer when someone takes a seat on the bar stool next to him. It's a Tuesday night and the bar is mostly empty so there's absolutely no reason for this guy to sit right beside Will which, if he's being totally honest, kinda pisses him off. He glances over, debating the pros and cons of telling the guy to find his own corner of the bar to mope in, and is met by an annoyingly familiar goatee.

"Mind if I join you?" Tony Stark asks as though he hasn't already decided he's going to even if you tell him to fuck off.

Will shrugs, downing the rest of his glass in one swig. Stark raises an eyebrow but (thankfully) doesn't comment, just gestures to the bartender for another "whatever he's drinking" and "your finest single malt on the rocks". Will accepts the drink with a muttered thanks (hey, if Tony Stark is going to buy him drinks why should he complain?) and goes back to staring into the amber depths in search of... well he's not entirely sure what but it's bound to be down there somewhere, right?

Unfortunately, Stark isn't content to sit and drink in silence. "So is there a reason you're getting drunk all by yourself?" the billionaire asks. "I mean, not that I'm saying you shouldn't get drunk because I'm totally on board with that, I'm just saying you could have at least invited me to your pity party."

Will snorts. "And why would I do that?"

I don't even know you.

"Because we're friends?"

It's about that point that it occurs to Will that Clint really does have friends (and if they're all just as messed up as his brother, so much the better), which is quickly followed by the thought that apparently so does he. Well, not friends, exactly, but teammates, and in their line of work that's about as close as you can get.

"Maybe next time," Will mutters because he feels like something needs to be said.

Stark seems at least a little bit satisfied with that and moves quickly onto the next point of conversation. "And why are we having this pity party?"

"We aren't having anything," Will feels obliged to point out. "I'm getting drunk and you're being annoying."

Okay, so maybe he's further along the line to drunk than he thought he was because, before tonight, being a dick to Tony Stark wasn't on his list of 'things that should be done before his career inevitably catches up with him and someone puts a bullet in his head' (and, wow, he really needs to get better at naming these lists). Now that he thinks about it, he can't even remember why he was so determined to get completely smashed anyway...

Stark just laughs though. "Well you're doing a terrible job of it, Barton. You've been out for almost four hours and you're still upright?"

Will isn't sure what to say to that so he doesn't say anything, just sips his beer and watches the bartender serve a fruity cocktail to another customer. He hasn't been out for four hours (maybe two?) so of course he's still upright, but he can't tell Stark that because he's... well he's Clint.

"You're great company, you know that?" Tony's words are swimming in sarcasm, so much so that Will is briefly concerned he might drown. But he waves that thought aside quickly because, if he's being completely honest, he doesn't particularly care.

"You could leave," Will suggests.

Tony genuinely seems to think about that, but then he shakes his head. "No, leaving you here is a really bad idea. Your girlfriend would kill me."

Will frowns. "Nat isn't my girlfriend."

(Because who else would he be talking about?)

Tony waves a hand through the air, "Details, details." Then he signals to the bartender for two shots. He shrugs at Will's raised eyebrow. "If we're going to do this we may as well do it right."

Will thinks 'what the hell?' and lifts his glass to Tony in salute. "I'm up for it if you are."

(And when Will ends up stumbling up the stairs to Clint's apartment with Tony Stark at 3am in the morning... Well, that's a story for another time.)

(Not that kind of story! Get your mind out of the gutter!)

 **3\. Bruce Banner**

Will runs into the Hulk's alter ego in the supernarket, of all places. It's close to 9 o'clock at night and he's just back from overseeing a mission and in desperate need of painkillers and cold and flu meds. The mission itself had been relatively straight forward but he'd somehow managed to catch a cold (he blames the shitty Barton luck) and somewhere between debriefing the agents and filling out paperwork the tension behind his eyes had grown into a killer headache. It hasn't reached migraine proportions yet, but Will would rather take a late night shopping trip and head it off at the pass than wallow in self pity later.

Bruce Banner appears while Will is standing in the bread aisle trying to remember whether Clint said he had bread or that he should pick some up on his way over. The headache and the general crappiness that accompanies a cold have reduced Will's situational awareness to almost zilch and he jumps when Banner speaks beside him.

"I thought you were going out," the scientist says, picking up a loaf of wholegrain bread.

"Uh..."

"With Natasha?" Bruce prompts.

Will blinks at the price of a loaf packaged in annoyingly bright yellow. "Oh. Yeah, I was..." He thinks Clint might have mentioned that? Maybe? "She wanted me to grab bread."

Banner just shakes his head. "Sometimes I wonder why she puts up with you, Barton," he mutters and Will wonders whether he was meant to hear it.

Probably, he thinks. It would be a strange thing to say to yourself.

"Me too," Will says aloud because he does wonder why Nat puts up with Clint.

Banner gives him a sideways look and Will begins to feel a little self-conscious (and maybe a teensy tiny bit paranoid). Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say...? Maybe he knows I'm not Clint...? Maybe I'm making him angry...?

Banner doesn't call him out on his impersonation, though, nor does he start to turn green (thank god) so Will lets out a(n audible) sigh of relief and grabs the obnoxious yellow bread off the shelf.

"Bye," he mutters. He turns sharply on his heel and makes it all of two (slightly unsteady) steps before there is a sharp tug on the back of his grey and purple 'Hawkeye' hoodie (it was a (gag) gift from Clint... and he's on downtime... don't judge).

"You alright, Clint?" Banner asks, hand still firmly clamped around the fabric of Will's sleeve.

Will brushes him off (both figuratively and literally) with a quick step back and a brusque, "I'm fine."

Unfortunately, Bruce Banner happens to be a doctor (and as much as he denies being that kind of doctor he has enough experience to at least pretend he is) and he also happens to be Clint's friend. Also unfortunately, Will happens to be sick and pretending to be his older brother, who happens to be notorious for hiding injury and illness wherever possible.

(There's a lot of happening, basically.)

"Where Natasha?" Bruce tries a different angle, fingers still clenching around Will's hoodie.

"Not here."

Bruce's eyebrow creeps towards his hairline. "Is that how you avoid answering questions during interrogations?"

No, I take a leaf out of Clint's book and piss them off with sarcasm and bad jokes.

Will rolls his eyes (that's what Clint would do, right?). "She went back to my apartment to change."

"Okay," Banner says. He grabs his own loaf of bread off the shelf and turns towards the check-out. "Why don't you let me give you a ride over there? You look like crap, to be completely honest, and I doubt you could walk two blocks in a straight line let alone find your way to your apartment."

Will frowns. He's basically James Bond (minus the British accent, of course, but he could fake that if the need arose) and Banner is accusing him of being unable to walk straight? Who does this guy think he is?

"Coming, Barton?" Banner calls over his shoulder.

It takes Will's foggy brain a second to catch up and he sniffs pathetically, rubbing at his nose with his hoodie sleeve in a vain attempt to stop it running (the action is quite frankly adorable, but don't tell him that), before hurrying after his brother's teammate. He is perfectly capable of making his own way to his apartment thank you very much… but, hey, what kind of person would give up the opportunity of a free ride

 **4\. Thor**

Okay, the time Thor mistakes him for Clint it's actually intentional. Clint had called Will the night before and asked if he could stop by the Tower and pick up his spare bow before coming to the farm for Cooper's birthday on the weekend. It wasn't until he'd agreed that Will realised he didn't have an access card to get into the Tower because... well, because they didn't know he existed. Then he remembered that Clint had gotten a spare copy of his access card to leave at his apartment "just in case of emergencies".

So, he'd grabbed the card and headed off to the Tower to impersonate his twin.

(Which sounds like the beginning of a 'how I got arrested' story, but everything was actually going quite well.)

It isn't until Will is in the elevator that he runs into one of the Avengers. It's not Tony Stark or Captain Rogers like he'd feared, though, it's their resident Thunder God. Thor he can deal with, Will decides.

"Barton!" Thor exclaims. He seems surprised to see Clint though which is... not good, actually, because that means he knows Clint isn't supposed to be here. "I thought you were headed out with Lady Natasha for the weekend?"

"I forgot something." Will shrugs. He may as well be (partially) honest.

Thor doesn't seem satisfied with that answer. "Did you not leave yesterday? I was sure the Captain mentioned your departure..."

Dammit, Will thinks. Why do I always end up in these situations?

He's beginning to think he should just stop pretending to be Clint when he runs into these people. But he knows how hard Clint tries to keep his identity - and his family's identities - a secret so that they don't get hurt. And Will may be able to hold his own, but once they know who he is, they're one step closer to knowing who Laura and the kids are.

Will gets all that, he really does, but sometimes (like now) his brother's paranoia is just frustrating.

"We stayed in the city last night," he tells Thor. "Nat and Maria wanted to go shopping for some party or gala or something."

Will rolls his eyes slightl in an unspoken "Women!" but Thor doesn't seem to catch on to the silent commiseration that most men share when talking about women and shopping. The demigod just smiles brightly and claps Will on the shoulder (just a bit too hard, but Will bears it with a grunt).

"Ladies Natasha and Maria are wonderful shoppers," Thor tells him. "They took me to pick out clothing that would help me fit in amongst you mortals."

Will glances at Thor's dark jeans and gunmetal grey t-shirt, resisting the urge to point out that it's not that bloody hard to pick out colours that go together and that he's sure even tourists of the galactic kind could manage it on their own. The elevator finally reaches the floor with the range and Will mutters a "see ya" to the Thunder God as he gets off.

Thor follows him though. Will is beginning to wonder if the demigod's superpower is blissful ignorance rather than super strength because can't the guy just take a hint? He's busy and he's not Clint and he doesn't have time to field endless questions about 'what are you doing?' and 'where are you going?' and 'will you be back for training on Tuesday?'

So Will does what Clint does best when he doesn't want to deal with people. He ignores them. (Although, Clint is much better at it because he can just take out his hearing aids and use the foolproof 'I can't hear you' excuse.)

Twenty minutes later he's out of the Tower (finally!) with Clint's spare bow in hand and the beginning of a brotherly lecture on 'why you should stop asking me to impersonate you for favours' already forming in his mind. Getting mistaken for his brother in random places around New York is one thing; trying to be mistaken for his brother in Avengers Tower of all places is another thing altogether.

(Even if it was just the tiniest bit fun to fool everyone, Tony Stark's super computer (sorry; AI) included…)

 **5\. Natasha**

The fact that Natasha mistakes him for Clint is actually kind of understandable. Kind of.

Okay, not really. She dated both of them (is dating one at the time), you'd think she would have learnt to tell them apart by now. And she has, for the most part, but, in her defence, she is drugged when it happens.

(Clint still thinks it's no excuse. Will is inclined to agree.)

Clint and Natasha are posing as a married couple in Spain on a three month undercover mission, flushing out some kind of international drug syndicate, and everything had been going well until the week before extraction. Then, as is warrant to happen, their cover had been blown and shit had hit the fan (not as metaphorically as you'd think).

Will happens to be nearby (if you call Western Sahara nearby) when he gets a panicked phone call from Clint saying Natasha is dying. It isn't until he shows up at the hospital in Madrid three and a half hours later that he discovers Natasha is not, in fact, dying but she is in the ICU and Clint's panic was mostly due to the fact that they wouldn't let him in to see her yet. Will whacks his brother for letting him think his girlfriend was dying, then shoos him off to get coffee and food (he knows trying to convince Clint to sleep would be pointless, even if he has been awake for close to twenty four hours).

So Will is the only one waiting in the hard plastic chairs when a doctor comes out and tells him Natasha is allowed visitors. He follows the doctor into the private hospital room (three cheers for SHIELD health insurance) and just stands there for a moment. Frail is definitely not a word he would ever associate with Natasha Romanoff, but lying on that hospital bed, pale as the sheets and swaddled in bandages, he cannot think of a more appropriate word.

"Hey, handsome," she whispers when her eyes flutter open and she sees him standing there. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"Nat..." The words get stuck in his throat so he just shakes his head and sinks into the seat beside the bed.

Natasha turns her head to look at him. "Don't tell your brother, okay?" She says. "Don't tell Will. He'd just worry..." Her voice trails off then picks back up again. "He worries too much..."

Will's chest tightens. He'd thought... She hadn't... She'd thought he was Clint... He forces breath into his lungs, forces himself to think, to speak.

"Sure," he hears himself say, voice cracking at he end. "Wouldn't want Will to worry."

Natasha smiles dopily, reaching up to clumsily pat his cheek with the hand that doesn't have an IV in it. "You're a good friend, Clint," she tells him. "Good brother, too."

She's drifting away by now, succumbing to the cocktail of painkillers and other dugs they've got her hooked up to. Will watches her eyelids flutter against her pale cheeks before closing completely, then he drops his head into his hands and sighs.

"Will?" Clint appears in the doorway. "Tasha?"

Will lifts his head to accept the styrofoam cup his brother presses into his hand. "She's asleep," he says when Clint drags another chair around to sit beside him.

"She hasn't woken up yet?"

Will almost doesn't tell Clint, but he figures his brother will know if he's lying so he may as well just tell him and save the hassle of arguing about it. "Briefly," he says. "She, uh, she doesn't want you to tell me she's in hospital because I worry too much."

The words dance in the air between them for a moment before Clint says "oh" and looks away.

"It's fine," Will says when the silence stretches on too long. "Just... Don't let her know I was here, okay?"

Clint shakes his head. "No, I can't-"

"Clint," Will snaps. "Come on, it's Natasha. You know what she's like. She'll think you broke her trust or something."

He can almost hear the muscles in Clint's jaw straining, he's clenching it so tightly. "Fine," he mutters but Will can he the disapproval in his voice.

He runs a hand through his short hair and stands. Natasha doesn't stir when he picks up her hand and squeezes her fingers gently so he dares to lean over and kiss her cheek as well.

"Get better, beautiful," Will whispers. Then he steps back.

Clint is watching him, the lines around his eyes crinkling when he frowns. "Where are you going now?"

Will shrugs. "Back to West Sahara, probably. The Secretary is in conferences there until tomorrow."

Clint nods. "See you back home soon?"

Will "hmm"s in agreement. "Text me updates. We'll catch up when Nat can travel back to the States and you can tell me how you managed to get yourself into yet another hair raising situation."

Clint grins. "It's a bit of a boring story, actually."

"Your idea of boring is a little different from everyone else's Clint." Will rolls his eyes.

He glances at Natasha's sleeping form one more time then steps towards the door.

"Hey," Clint calls suddenly. Will turns to see him digging through his pockets. "I got you something."

Will arches an eyebrow at the small figurine Clint holds up. He catches it when his brother lobs it towards him. The figurine is a miniture Black Widow carved out of wood and painted, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

Clint rubs his cheek, looking just a little embarrassed. "Uh, I found it at a street vendor in the markets," he admits. "Thought you might like something to remind you of her while you're on opposite sides of the world."

Will grins brightly, turning the little Widow over and over in his hands. "Is this your way of saying you're not jealous that your girl chose me?"

Clint snorts. "Nat's not my girl."

Will thinks of the "hey, handsome" that had been meant for Clint. Maybe Clint doesn't realise it, but a part of Nat will always be 'his girl'.

"Whatever you say, bro," Will says aloud. "Just take care of her."

"Always," Clint murmurs.

Will nods. He knows Nat is in capable hands. Then he disappears from the room, from the hospital, and from Madrid. William Brandt was never there, only Clint Barton was.

(And even Clint wasn't really there, not officially anyway.)

 **+1**

The top secret operation is going well. It's not quite 5pm and everything is set up; their base of operations is fully equipped, the team is in position and, most importantly, the target is in position. The whole thing is practically textbook and, if he's being completely honest, Director Fury is a little surprised.

Never in his entire career as Director of SHIELD, nor at any point throughout his life, has he ever known the planning of a surprise party to go so well.

He lets his one good eye wander around the room, searching for something that could possibly ruin the mission. Balloons are in place and properly inflated (check); food and drinks are prepared and set out (check); guests are all accounted for and appropriately attired (check and check). The only person missing is the birthday boy...

Who is in the elevator...

Twenty minutes before schedule...

Shit.

"Where the hell is Agent Romanoff?" Fury barks, glaring at the four Avengers who are situated in various positions around the main floor of the Tower. Thor looks at Captain Rogers. Rogers looks at Banner. Banner looks at Stark. Stark rolls his eyes.

"She's two blocks away," the billionaire answers. He taps at the tablet in his hand, replacing the video feeds of the building's elevators with a grid map showing the glowing blue dots of the tracking devices broadcasting the locations of Barton and Romanoff. "Still with Barton. Wait, gimme a second... No, that's not a malfunction. I hacked CCTV cameras, they're definitely in a jewellery store two blocks away."

The Avengers all share looks. Eventually, Banner speaks up with the question on everyone's mind; "So who's in the elevator?"

Will taps his fingers against his denim clad thigh. Everyone says he's the patient twin, which is really saying a lot about Clint because Will has never been one to stay still and just wait, and the (admittedly quite quick) elevator ride up to the top floor of Stark Tower is no exception.

When the steel doors finally open, Will is surprised to be met by a crowd of superheroes holding various makeshift weapons and trying to be threatening (although the makeshift weapons kind of take away from the threatening bit - a plastic plate? Really Captain?). Will slowly lifts his hands in surrender as he steps out and the elevator doors slide closed behind him.

"I come in peace," he adds when the crowd continues to loom and glower threateningly.

Nobody moves beyond Stark huffing a laugh and muttering something about clone technology, but Will elects to ignore Stark (he's heard it all before, after all) and direct his next question at the Director of SHIELD who is standing at the front of the crowd.

"Hello, Nick," he drawls. "Was a welcoming committing really necessary?"

Fury's gun (at least he had a proper weapon) disappears into a holster beneath the folds of his leather coat. "Agent Brandt," he greets, lips pressed into a thin line. "A little warning would have been appreciated."

Will shrugs, lips twitching with the effort to remain deadpan in the face of the combined bewilderment of four sixths of the Avengers. "Where would be the fun in that? It is a surprise party, after all. And it is my birthday."

Fury snorts. "Why you and your brother think you're funny I'll never know..." he mutters.

"Sir?" the Captain has lowered his plastic plate, but he's still looming over Fury's shoulder, watching the conversation with growing confusion. "Would you like to fill us in on who this man is and why he looks exactly like Barton?"

Fury waves a hand in Will's direction. "William Brandt - Avengers, Avengers - Brandt. He's Barton's twin. Not a clone, Stark."

"So you say," the billionaire mumbles, but he's the first to step past Fury and extend a hand for Will to shake. "Always a pleasure to meet anyone with dirt on our resident hawk," he says with a sharp grin.

Will's own grin is just as cutting as he squeezes Stark's hand just a little harder than strictly necessary. "Always a pleasure to meet someone I wouldn't give any dirt to."

If anything, that only makes the billionaire like him more.

"You boys play nice," Fury snarks as he makes his way over to the bar, muttering about needing a strong drink if he has to deal with two Barton's ("Two of them, for Christ's sake! Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to have two of them!?).

Will gets passed around each of the Avengers as more personal introductions happen - "Hi, I'm Bruce Banner. But you probably watch the news so you probably already know that..." - and by the time Fury barks at them all to "shut the fuck up and get in your positions dammit - Brandt you're with me" Will can safely put 'friends with earth's mightiest heroes (+Clint)' on his resume.

(Not that he's going to, though. That would be stupid because then the rest of the world would figure out that he has a twin brother and he's of the belief that the world just isn't ready for that.)


End file.
